Kole
by Ruth Lechner
Summary: S3E2 -A woman approaches Sherlock after he tries to leave John's wedding to ask him to dance. Spoilers. Sherlock/OC
1. Sherlock - S3E2

I've written a Sherlock/OC story. I personally don't like and find it annoying when people write characters in the first chapter, especially if she's the OC, completely vague, because I feel like I have nothing to go on. However, I did it like that on purpose here because that's all you need to know so far. This idea just came to me the other day. I wanted to write it.

* * *

The invisible man mystery case was solved. Sherlock solved the about-to-be murder and John saved the Colonel's life. Sherlock played the violin as John and Mary had the first dance as man and wife. With a brief toast, and deducing that two had become three, Sherlock intermingled with the crowd that began dancing again.

"I'm pregnant!" Mary covered her mouth with her hand. John gave disbelieving, but happy, laughs, Mary doing the same. Sherlock smiled briefly.

"Dance, the two of you. Go, dance."

The two went to go dance and Sherlock stood alone in the crowd of dancing couples. It occurred to him to find the chief bridesmaid, and he accomplished this. She was smiling widely at him. He made to move over to her, but she lifted a hand to the dancing partner she had, the man he had earlier pointed out to her, and gave him a thumb's up. He smiled in realization and stood where he was. His blue eyes surveyed the couples around him, as if looking about for some sort of interaction, but everyone was focused on their partners. He eventually realized that there was no one for him, and made his way to exit the dance floor.

Outside the convention, where he could still hear the dance music and see the purple lights from the windows, he swirled his coat as he put it on. His scarf was on next, right before a woman walked right into his path and stood in front of him, close to him, blocking the way. Her grey eyes stared up at his dispassionately, her chin raised to stare at his taller face.

"Will you dance with me?" She said it more as a statement than a question.

Sherlock's brows furrowed just slightly, hands still in the middle of tying his scarf, before he focused on the woman again and guessed everything about her.

She was wearing a satin champagne coloured dress clearly suitable for a wedding venue and her brown hair was pulled up in a bun on the back of her head. She was fair, and had grey eyes.

She closed her eyes and looked like she was forcing herself to say,

"I need a dance partner. To dance."

"Um..." He began. She didn't look away from his eyes, just staring. "Sure."

He turned slowly on the path they stood on back the other way and the woman walked until she was next to him, just in time for her to keep up with his steps. He looked down at her on his left in slight confusion before he opened the white, glass paned door for her and entered in behind her.

It was a waltz, and the two newly paired dance partners turned to each other on the dance floor as if in sync, then raising their arms to rest in the appropriate position. In a moment, they both began the steps, fluidly moving through the waltz.

They said nothing, just gazing at one another's face. It wasn't staring like one stared at a painting, taking everything in, it was more just gazing like looking out of a window of a car, where you were casually looking. It was strange to Sherlock that there was no awkwardness.

Sherlock himself never felt awkwardness, and he inwardly appreciated that this simple minded simpleton did not introduce it into the equation.

Sherlock loved dancing, a fact he never told anyone until tonight when he confided in the head bridesmaid - a mistake he shall not make again, due to how the benefit of self - disclosure was literally nothing. His posture was impeccable, his skills incredible - as always. This woman was not bad herself.

"I have not seen you tonight." He said.

She had had her head slightly turned, looking at something indiscriminate, then she looked at him.

"I've been here all night." She answered, her tone naturally mysterious and dreamy. "Through your speech - as colorful as that was. Etcetera."

He raised his head then slowly nodded curtly.

"I see."

He only realized just then that neither of them had engaged in exchanging pleasantries or compliments neither of them meant, and he pondered on the strangeness and pleasantness of it.

The bubble of silence between them was nice while the world around them moved jaggedly and excitedly, the noise of the music and the rush of tittering conversation between partners. Sherlock meanwhile was trying to place the familiarity of the face before him. Of course, she'd 'been here all night', she'd said, but,

"You look familiar." He said, brows furrowed, staring down at her. She looked at him again.

"We have met." She stated without being offended.

Sherlock's eyes moved as he tried to remember.

"Oh."

"I believe it was back when you moved into Baker Street."

"Ah."

"I've been there a few times when you were on your murder cases. On the sidelines."

Sherlock's eyes wized left and right. It was on the tip of his tongue -

"You're Charles's friend."

"No. Who?"

"Charles. Charles Lestrade."

"...It's Greg, I believe." She'd read his name in news articles.

"Oh, right."

"I was here, tonight, when you arrested that man for murdering that one guest."

"Incredibly vague - oh that's right."

_Sherlock was recounting his deductions in a brilliant show of his skills in front of Mary, John and Louis Lestrade. The photographer was handcuffed to the bell hop's trolley. Once he finished the head bridesmaid tittered at him for his brilliance and intelligence. He briefly saw the face of the other woman standing in the small room with them, looking at his face._

"You were there."

She blinked.

"When I caught the invisible man."

She blinked.

"Yes. I'm John's friend. I was going to find him, and when I did, I heard your story."

John's friend? One who had been friends with him since he moved into Baker Street? One who John never mentioned, one who apparently had met him, but more suspiciously, one who John had never flirted with?

"Hm."

He had Mary now - but before John flirted with any pretty girl. If she was a friend, John would have mentioned her. One who had apparently been there the whole time, even on their investigations - yet Sherlock never noticed. How... intriguing.

While the two were dancing, both failed to notice the fleeting glance of Molly from across the room, then her double take and staring.

It was the middle of the next song when the woman went to pull away. Sherlock's hands tightened out of principle - one does not _leave _ during the middle of a song, a dance.

He said as much to her. She looked at him disinterestedly, but continued dancing with him nonetheless. When the song was over, he let her pull away when she made a move to do so. She clapped for him, and he for her. He bowed, she curtsied.

"Evening, Sherlock." She turned and left through the crowd. Sherlock's eyes squinted a little then returned to their normal size.


	2. Sherlock - S3E3

A room filled with kissing noises.

"You're my girl," uttered the man on top of the woman on the bed. A naked leg pushed between their torsos. The woman questioned on the flat of her back,

"Is this possessive sex?"

"Uh," the guy was brain dead from their activity.

It definitely was, she thought.

With her posh voice she said calmly,

"Get out of me. Get off me. Go."

It still didn't sink in to the man fast enough for her liking and the front of her leg pushed on his torso until she pushed him away enough that her leg could fully extent and her toes hold him away.

Artistically she rolled off the bed.

The man started stammering as she got dressed. She finished dressing in record time, fixing her hair as she made her way to the door, the bemused man having only a bed sheet to cover himself with stammering,

"We were in the middle of sex!"

As she opened the door to his apartment she smiled his way. Not flirtatiously, sarcastically, or sardonically, but just to smile, because that's what people did, didn't they? She was sticking out a lot right about now, so she had to do something to fit in still, like how she got the man into bed in the first place.

"Bye."

The apartment door closed.

* * *

Sherlock, jolly, stepped onto the pavement on a street in London and jogged up to a woman. She was wearing a long cream trench coat with her brown hair falling down her back and smart black trousers on.

He'd suffered a shot to the torso, he'd shot Magnussen, was nearly put in undercover work in Eastern Europe, then brought back 4 minutes later because he needed to face Moriarty - who was back from the dead.

Sherlock caught up with the woman.

"Hello girl," He smiled at her. She pushed some brown hair from her face against the wind so she could see him. She looked mildly surprised.

"Hello, Sherlock."

"How've you been, since the, wedding?" He pronounced 'wedding' differently to the rest of his sentence. He had his funny hat on and he smiled down at her, since he was taller than her, as they both seemed to look at one another at the same time while someone passed the two of them.

"Fine." She said neutrally.

"Haven't seen you since,"

"Yeah."

* * *

Okay, guys, this episode is set in S3E3. The first scene is before that, during the time Sherlock had his own adventures with Mary, John, Magnessun and Genine. Then there's a little time break, then the last scene is when Sherlock comes back to London which should be right after S3E3 ends in the show. Since I don't know what's going to happen next in the show, this story will only be updated when that next comes out.


End file.
